


Facing the Darkness

by Val_Creative



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Comfort/Angst, F/F, F/M, Nightmares, Past Abortion, Past Relationship(s), Reincarnation, Romance, Spirit World, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-27 11:45:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2691737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mercilessly plagued by visions of one of her past lives, Korra searches for answers in the midst of discovering the kind of Avatar she wants to be in Republic City, and the kind of woman to use her strengths to do what's right. When the visions reach their peak, Asami is dragged into the Spirit World, realized as Korra's most precious earthly attachment—and the real battle starts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The present time in this Canon AU is 171 AG, where Korra leaves the spirit worlds open in canon. "[This timeline [...] date events as years before the Air Nomad Genocide (BG) and years after the genocide (AG). 0 AG is the year Fire Lord Sozin used the power from Sozin's Comet to begin the Hundred Year War with the Air Nomad Genocide and serves as an epoch for the dating system.](http://avatar.wikia.com/wiki/History_of_the_World_of_Avatar)" 
> 
> Fic starts with mentions of Korra/Mako and various but the endgame and build up towards it is Korra/Asami, no worries.

*

**170 AG**

*

 

_High walls of carved ice, ripples of freezing water disturbed in the path of their boat. Eyes that gleamed in the overcast of the new moon; brilliant, darkly colored stars peering back at him. Her squeaking laugh like an arctic mouse. Her screaming, bubbling up from the depths of the water. Eyes that gleamed in the deepest shadows, blood dark lips opening a sneer—_

 

 

A charge of primal fear shot lightning-fast up Korra’s spine, snapping her eyes open, heaving her chest with body-shaking gasps as she bolted upright out of sleep.

Her hands went to her sweat-glistening face, pushing her palms and fingers against her cheekbones and eyelids as she fought to quiet her breathing. But could not stop her shaking. The _same_ nightmare, again. Korra forced herself to swallow down the rest of a clogged whimper, hands still cradling her face.

A nightmare repeating for days and days, clutching at her when she thought she was free from danger floating through the endless sombre, until it ripped her into back into the conscious, suffocating world. As the Avatar, nightmarish dreams were not _uncommon_. Tenzin told her that her dreams were attempting to recreate memories, or to give her insight of what would come.

She didn’t want _either_.

Her louder breathing and the abrupt shifting on the lumpy cot roused Mako, and one of his arms sluggishly went around her midsection.

“Korra, what happened…?” he asked, sleepily.

She glanced at him lying on his side with the woolen, gray sheet draping over his muscular, sandy-flesh hip. Amber eyes a sorry struggle to keep from hazing out.

Her lips quirked a moment, knowing that beneath that sheet there was a purpling but faint bite-mark about the size of her mouth on the hollow of his hip and the very inside of his thigh. _Physical reminders_ from last night. They had fucked so vigorously, so intensely that his seed had trickled warm on her belly and from her sore, aroused center, and that perhaps they both shared multiple burns. The one forming on her neck still tingled while she stretched it.

Korra stroked the curve of his ear with her fingernails, feeling a pleasant shudder pass through him, before mumbling, “M’fine, go back to sleep.”

“…you sure, babe?”

_No. Something’s wrong._

Korra’s lips flattened away from the half-smile starting to form.

This was the first time he had ever woken with the arrival of one of her hellish nightmares. Not that he would be more concerned about the subject than Tenzin. It’s an _Avatar_ thing; one day she would understand. Stop worrying about it all the time, _babe_. (Oh, and what a bunch of horse-bull that was.)

“Mhm, I’m… going to get some water from the kitchen.”

His eyes passed over a nearly full glass sitting on the table stand in view behind Korra’s shoulder as she spoke neutrally.

Mako’s voice rose with skepticism, “There’s one right—”

“—I’m going to use the washroom,” Korra said, not bothering to mask her irritation as she stomped out without clothes, hearing him yell after her, but the bedroom door behind her did not budge open with Mako seeking to console her.

Her head rested against the hard, wood-frame, her facial features scrunching.

_Eyes that gleamed in the deepest shadows, eyes filling with the quintessence of sinister intentions—--_

_Not her, I’m begging you now, you must let her free, Ummi—--_

She sucked in a noisy breath, reopening her blue eyes filling with unshed tears. Her throat paining her from clenching, the walls of it like a hot, slickened knot.

Kuruk.

What do you _want_ from me?

 

 

 *

**171 AG**

*

 

The drowsy and collective hum in her ears.

It drifted and mingled from the mumbling, wizenly occupants of one of the private council rooms. Her eyelids weighed like cement blocks. Maybe tons of cement bricks.

Korra itched at her armpit and slumped against the table in front of her, yawning restlessly. A long, brown arm dangled limply at her side, and she propped her chin against her other hand, shutting her eyes for a second. Just _one_ second, maybe she could get some rest, finally…

A gruff _harrumph!_ from the front of the long, council table.

Clearing his throat slightly to get her attention, General Iroh gently nudged Korra’s limp arm with his elbow, on her left side, when she didn’t seem to respond to anything else. He raised his eyebrows at her, blank-faced, when she stared confused, now suddenly alert of her surroundings.

“Are we boring you, Avatar Korra?” Tenzin said coolly.

Her blue eyes widened when Korra’s head jerked in his direction, registering his genuine frown.

“O-oh, uhhh…”

She shot her right hand into the air, the one that had been under her chin, nearly leaping out of her chair and startling another councilman.

“I vote yes! Yes!”

Tenzin’s aged fingers rubbed his temple. “I would sincerely hope that you would not be in favor of demolishing a statue of a beloved figurehead of Republic City,” he muttered.

Korra’s hand lowered slowly, very, _very_ slowly.

“Perhaps a ten minute break is in order.”

 

*

 

The rest of the meeting went off without a hitch, no bulging veins in Tenzin’s forehead, and they managed to work out a systematic procedure with police headquarters about the new gangs terrorizing the West section of Republic City’s living distinct.

Even after being free of Amon’s grip, the Equalists had only scattered, creating small factions with the criminals and gang lords already established. They all hated each other, but they all hated authority more. The United Forces loaned some of their people to the cause, their leader General Iroh included for nearly a year and a half. They were free of Amon in Republic City, whether or not he was dead, and it still felt like there was a war brewing on the horizon.

On the steps of City Hall, Iroh passed her, touching her shoulder in an rare, warm gesture.

“Don’t worry about earlier, Korra. The droning tends to cloud the mind.”

She snickered with him, and he waved to someone behind her. Korra automatically took a step back from him, strangely bashful and kicking herself for it as Asami joined them — curly, black hair windblown from waiting outside.

The ex-heiress yanked up her thick driving goggles, accepting the long and comfortable hug from the older man and beaming at Korra.

Something in Korra’s stomach did a weird flip-flop.

“Long time, no see!”

“Yeah…” Korra trailed off. The nineteen-year-old tentatively returned a hug from the other woman when Asami moved in for it. It _really_ had been. Did Asami grow an inch or was she just imagining it? Did she always smell like flower blossoms beneath the more obvious noticeable tinge of perspiration and motor oil? Were her eyes always so… _green_?

“I’ll see you at the dinner party tonight,” Iroh said to them, bowing and heading into the afternoon rush below.

“You’re coming too, right, Korra? I’ve already invited Bolin and Mako.” A drop-dead gorgeous, _Asami_ smile. “It’ll be like old times.”

Korra resisted the twitch in her jaw, her teeth grinding behind her lips at the mention of her ex.

“Great…”

As if sensing the unspoken tension, Asami’s face softened.

There was no need to mentally question if Asami had always been that gorgeous, her curvy shape, her face, her pouting, bow-shaped mouth. Her — yeah, that’s enough of that.

“Want a ride there?” A head-tilt towards a sleek, machine-black motorcycle parked off to the side. Expensive-looking, but no one would dare try it or exchange fists with the legendary _Asami Sato_ , fighter extraordinaire, one of the founding members of the “new Team Avatar”. No idiot in the city would forget what kind of person she was.

Her pulse drummed.

Asami explained, keeping her voice low, careful, “You’ll have to hang on tight, but… if you wanted to, come see the place before the party-…”

Korra shrugged.

“Why not?” she said, for the moment optimistic, and the comment brought on another smile to the twenty-year-old’s features. “Like old times, right?”

So what if their old days weren’t so chummy… they were different people back then, and the cycle of positive change was something Korra felt confident in her abilities to master.

 

  
*


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See previous summary for timeline info and clarification on endgame pairing.

*

 

The apartment, with a sprawling ocean view through bay windows, gives the illusion of being enough to accommodate double the amount of guests to actually come.

It’s probably not even an illusion. Instead of anything to do with her father’s awful reputation, Asami managed renewed fiscal and society-driven success in her career, and she could afford to have that _quadruple_ the amount in one night, if Korra was led to believe was true.

But she insisted on just inviting her _friends_ only. And preparing and cooking everything herself. Out of courtesy, Korra volunteered to help.

“How’s piloting?” she yelled over the shrieking of a boiling kettle, setting out plates with copper-decorated edges.

“Really wonderful, learning so much!” Asami called back. “I’m getting a promotion at the end of the month!” _Of course_.

Korra rolled her eyes, but without unkindness.

The hissing of escaping steam going down. The ex-heiress appeared in the dining room, presenting a cup of hot tea to her companion. “How are you and Mako?” No spite in the question, no malice, no ill will. But Korra’s stomach felt _queasy_.

She scooted out a dining room chair, taking a seat.

“I…”

Something akin to blatant embarrassment could be read on the other woman placing aside her own cup.

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t my place, was it…?”

The young Avatar motioned her to stop talking. “We're… not living together. Or even _together_ -together anymore.” Asami joined her in the next seat, grasping onto Korra’s empty hand. Instinctively or not, it was reassuring. “Last year, I found out…” Her breath strangled up in her windpipe. Korra gulped audibly to get out the rest, “I went to a clinic… and I’m not a mom. I can’t be one. But he found out I went… he was worried that the clinic hurt me…”

“It’s still a new procedure to modern medicine,” Asami said, nodding. “Especially for this city.”

She ran her thumb consolingly over Korra’s hand between her hands, over tendons until Korra could find her voice again, even if trembling. “We fought; we fought a lot before I got… I got pregnant, and I tried apologizing for worrying him, but it didn’t matter and I wasn’t that sorry. I just think nothing was gonna… make anyone happy in the end.”

“Korra… if I had known, I wouldn’t have asked him to come.”

“No, you can’t invite Bolin to anything without Mako.” Korra laughed, rueful, and Asami let her go to take a sip of her jasmine tea. “You know how he gets.”

“That’s true…”

Korra fidgeted in her seat, and patted her messy ponytail — Asami swore on her ancestors that she’d make Korra presentable, already getting a glimpse of the beaded dress. “Are you and… Iroh…?” she asked, lifting up her porcelain teacup to her lips, sipping enough to look uninterested and distracted, glancing out of the corner of her eyes for Asami’s reaction.

“Sometimes,” she mused. A content-with-life kind of muse. A ‘ _maybe maybe not oho~_ ’ kind of muse. “Why, is there a chance you like him?”

Of all things, Korra did not expect that reaction, and she banged on her chest when her lungs got a dose of her tea instead of her esophagus.

“ _ACK_ — no! No no! I-I just…”

Asami smirked, briefly patting her back. “You’re so cute, Korra.”

“Do you mean cute as in _‘You’re a big fat loser, Korra_ ’? Because…” Korra sighed, glaring down at the table. “I feel like it sometimes. I can’t fix the city… I can’t fix my life…”

“Mako didn’t deserve someone like you, trust me.”

“And I can’t — _what_?” Blue eyes stared up at Asami’s serious expression.

“When I said it, I meant the way you don’t see what’s in front of your face, even when you should.” Plum-colored fingernails lightly traced over Korra’s slackening jaw. “And the usual meaning of _cute_ still applies, too,” she murmured, not an ounce of teasing in how _matter-of-factly_ she said this, leaning in. Korra considered fuzzily that the aim had possibly been for her cheek… when Asami’s lipstick-coated lips nudged to brush the fleshy corner of her mouth…

“L _aaaaaaaaa_ dies~!” Bolin burst into the dining room, crowing. “The fun has arriiiiiiiiiiived!”

Korra jerked into a standing position, knocking over her chair, avoiding eye contact with Asami as the other woman announced, cheerfully, “Not a moment too soon, the stuffed tomatoes should be ready.”

Pabu scampered over the laced tablecloth, leaping onto Korra’s shoulder and purring into her ear when Bolin’s mighty arms crushed around her.

“How’s my _favorite_ Avatar? You know you’re my favorite, right?” He grinned eagerly, and relief coursed through her. Bolin knew how to make her smile, would be on her side no matter what was going on, and Mako would never have a say in that. She couldn’t believe she had been dodging visits with him all this time.

Korra bear-hugged him, hiding her face into his neck and elevating him onto his tiptoes.

“ _Whoooah_ , ha-ha, someone hasn’t been skipping her magic Avatar vegetables!”

A muffled grumble. “ _I missed you… forgive me for being such a big cabbage slug?_ ” She pulled away to look up when Bolin’s hands squeezed the tops of her shoulders.

His adoring smile. “Only if you’ll forgive me for being a possum-chicken," he answered.

“It’s a deal.”

 

*

 

Drowsy and collective hum inside the room. Mako’s cold, snubbing behavior. Her form-fitting, midnight blue cocktail dress too revealing in the neckline, the fashionable up-do hairstyle, the makeup too fake. Korra’s eyes watered as she fought down a big, lazy yawn into her fist, tapping her fingers rhythmically against a bowl of pea soup.

_Dank, sour-smelling caverns winding deeper and deeper into otherworldly shadow. A clicking noise in the distance, but not of machine or animal—--_

_Eyes that gleamed on a bloodless mask—--_

The same unforgiving, beady eyes staring back at her in the reflective surface of her dinner. A horrified, choking gasp. (But I’m awake. _I’m awake._ ) Korra swiped the offending bowl clear across the dining room table with a shrill cry, nearly taking a crystal glass of red wine with it, ending its liquidy contents onto a dainty, off-white tablecloth, and ran.

 

*

 

Somehow, the light of the full moon bridled her veins with _power_ , with grounded _control_ , even if her body had been exposed to the low temperature. Korra buried her naked toes deep into the sea-wet sand, curling herself tight, and bended another large spurt of fire to the dwindling bonfire on the outskirts of the apartment’s property.

“Was that really your first element?”

Korra narrowed her eyes curiously at the approaching figure. A vividly red and gold United Forces uniform in the firelight.

“…I’ve never told anyone that,” she said with some curious suspicion, taking a moment to scoot aside on her bottom, freeing up space on the outdoor quilt spread out on the beach. “How much does the military know about me?”

“It was a lucky guess from another soul of a firebender.” The patient undercurrent of Iroh’s tone, the statement itself bid her to privately grin to herself and into her crossed forearms. “How are you, Korra?”

( _I was awake, spirits damn everything_.)

Korra made an aggravated face at no one particular.

“Losing my mind, I guess.”

“I see.” For a General, he had a relaxed smile, dimpling his cheeks. “If I may be so bold as to insert my viewpoint,” Iroh said, “but it looked as if you were napping in the middle of it.”

“I don’t know what’s happening anymore…” she mumbled.

“There seems to be something else on your mind. What is this really about?”

Korra’s fingertips sparked visibly. “I’m not a _good_ Avatar. I’ve mastered all four elements and it means nothing. Aang got so much done before he was my age. He _saved_ the world. Republic City isn’t _better_.”

Iroh asked calmly, “Have you ever heard of the proverb: _Ba Sing Se wasn’t built in a day_?”

“Weird rhyme and no," she said, laughing.

“Rhyme or not, its meaning still holds. Your actions may take time to fully affect others and this city, and you may need to continue them for a long time, but they aren’t for nothing.” Korra frowned slightly. “The man I’m named after had often explained to my grandfather the same for his frequent impatience.” Iroh admitted, rubbing the back of his collared neck, sheepishly, “I think that most people who have met me wish to build these glorious expectations for me to live up to in his namesake.”

“And you’ll exceed them, I’m sure,” Asami proclaimed, wadding through the silvery moon-glow sand, ankle-straps in one hand.

Korra twisted in place to greet her. Wood-spice perfume teemed through the evening breeze. She wrinkled her nose but faced away from her companions to do it. It sort of hurt Korra's sinuses, like someone sprayed on too much.  

 _She_ … Asami smelled better, more like _herself_ when her sweat drenched through her leather and cashmere jackets, when she was flaked with engine grease and taking apart a broken moped with those long, slender hands, expertly testing each use of her automotive and reassembling them, fully functioning just like they were brand new in a factory.

“How are you, Korra?”

“Everyone keeps asking.”

Spring-bud green eyes examined Korra’s deadpan glance.

“Do you feel like staying awhile… Bolin and Mako have said their goodbyes already,” Asami suggested, _softly_ , bending down towards her. The thin strap to her glimmering, bangled dress slipping over the crest of a pale shoulder. Korra’s eyes drew there, as if hypnotized. “Or I could give you the lift back…?”

So _green_. Her eyes.

“I think… Iroh and I would both like it if you stayed.”

Gold _and_ green eyes. Long, slender hands grasping hers.

“Come inside, Korra… it’s getting late…”

 

*

 

 _Yes_ , better — so much better; two sets of fingers twining and petting her rumpled, dark hair spilled out on the divan’s cushions. The lean lines of flesh and muscle and the heat of Asami’s breasts sealed against hers, her full weight on top of Korra as she rocked hard between two partners, rubbing slow, slow into Korra’s over-stimulated clit.

_Korra, may we make love to you?_

Asami rocked into the quickening thrusts jarring her from behind, _opening_ her fully, dripping wet with her own fluids. Korra could feel where Iroh’s length slipped out from the other woman, half-hard and wet and nudging into Korra’s entrance where Asami’s callused, warm fingers lowered to pry her inner, moist lips to separate. He plunged into her, _filling_ her with the nostalgic sensation of a male lover, and she groaned, blue eyes dazing out as Asami pressed a knowing, smiling kiss against the jut of her chin.

_Yes._

A sexual revolutionist. Someone who practiced a lifestyle without mocking others or shaming them in the bedroom. What wasn’t Asami _good_ at?

This should be no surprise.

Whispers of _deviants_ and _orgies_ , but this… this wasn’t loveless. Asami, and Iroh, trusted her, and Korra could say without guilt that she enjoyed this. The condom was unnaturally synthetic compared to bare flesh she had been only experienced with her sexual life, but _safer sex_ was another lesson Korra could embrace gladly. The fact that people could have multiple partners, make love for hours and as many times as they wanted, and they would not have to worry about risks that arose with non-protection.

“ _Korra_ ,” a breathy moan, and Asami’s fingers worked to circle her clit.

Her lipstick pink, smudged mouth nipping against Korra’s lower, welcoming lip, straining to redden between Asami’s straight, white teeth as Korra tightened around the cock inside her, swelled against Asami’s fingertips, her orgasm filtering her vision pleasure-white as her name echoed from two different tongues.

“ _Korra_ ,” and she ignored Iroh’s gentle kneading on her buttocks, in favor of lapping Asami’s come-slick, middle finger caressing around her mouth.

Worth the drop-dead _gorgeous_ smile.

 

*

 

_Her furred mitten cupping the engraved, ornate necklace. Her tears stream down her lovely face. All of my hard work to propose, all of my time wasted before I met her — I would take it all back. A lingering, chaste kiss. Before I met her. Her bubbling screams in the oasis. An animalistic shriek in the cave’s shadows, skittering legs and clicking. A splash of red. Before I—_

**She’s mine, Avatar—--**

 

*


End file.
